


Dungeon Delights

by spymaster41



Category: Midieval Fictional World
Genre: Captain! Plot sighted off the port side! Plot Ho!, F/M, First Chapter PWP, That's how ya real em in, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spymaster41/pseuds/spymaster41
Summary: A queen is taken prisoner by her mortal enemy. A king eyes her greedily as a prize to be enjoyed by him alone. Will her strength and willpower be enough to overcome her new reality, or will she succumb to a life of servitude and obedience?
Kudos: 1





	1. Dungeon Delights: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Chapter is PWP, but it sets up the rest of the story ^^

“You’ll never get away with this!” she screamed at him, straining against the chains that kept her pinned to the spot. Her target laughed, voice echoing around the dungeon chambers. His features shifting into that of a smirk as he watched his captive resist, the rattling of the chains music to his ears. He walked around her, eyes glued to her figure as he traced a circle on her back. She was in the center of the chamber, forced into a kneeling position as her arms were suspended above by chains that disappeared into the pitch-black ceiling. Immediately at his touch she quieted, and her figure froze in place.

“My dear Queen Elizabeth…” he mused. “I already have”.

Letting his fingers trace their way up, over the arches of her shoulder blades and towards her neck, he breathed out, watching how it made her skin shiver with trepidation. Impeccably broidered patterns were etched into her purple-hued dress, which was already filthy from weeks without a proper wash, although she herself was allowed to bathe. He continued.

“Wasn’t it _your_ army that was just swept out from beneath you not two weeks prior? Or your husband, Henry, who lead them? I seem to recall you running for your life by the time my troops found you, the last survivor, correct? I was _aghast_ to hear of Miss brave Elizabeth, champion of her people, fleeing for her life as her own countrymen were sliced to pieces behind her! I can only imagine how they feel now”.

She trembled, not from fear but anger. How dare he. How dare he tell such poisonous lies straight to her face. She had surrendered with a sword in hand, a dozen blades held at the tip of her throat. Nothing would have made her prouder than to die defending the country, the people she loved, to the death, but the knowledge that her life was more important than that. Not to herself of course. She wasn’t of the other nobles’ assumption, that power and wealth equated to dominance. But her position gave her a chance to help those in need. When her country prospered, it was only just to spread the wealth and abundant harvests their farmers and merchants provided to those less fortunate. She had spent hundreds of hours railing against the depravities she witnessed across the land by corrupt and spoiled noble families. It had been her calling, she thought, to usher in a new era of equality. But all that had ground to a halt when soldiers were seen skirting the edges of their lands. Soldiers of yellow and black livery, marching in rank, scores of them pouring in across the countryside unannounced and unwelcome. The noble families she had fought so hard against had been plotting against the crown in secret, meeting with enemy forces and providing vital intelligence of the landscape and crown’s own forces. Where they had fought back, they were outnumbered, and where they retreated land was lost.

Until now, when in a last-ditch effort Elizabeth and Henry united their forces for a drive towards the enemy’s mainland, plowing a path through unprotected towns and cities in a suicidal attempt to take the heart of the empire. Their enemy had overstretched itself dramatically in their eagerness to conquest, so much so that their supply lines and chains of communication were shattered. It had almost been enough, Elizabeth thought bitterly. But eventually, surrounded, low on supplies and morale, they had been forced to make their stand against a mountain’s back. _Anyone_ who had dared to turn tail and run would have been cut down within hours by marauding bands of soldiers on horseback. They had no choice but to stand, and now, they were dead. Elizabeth hung her head in shame at the memory, but the fingers which remained steadfastly on her shoulder brought her out of it. She looked up at her captor and spat out his name as if it was an insult to English language.

“What do you want, _William_ ” she said, using his first name without an honorific. Surely any from his own kingdom would have died for such impudence, but at her he merely smiled. In many ways that was more terrifying. She expected a slap on the cheek, or a punch in the ribs, but not silence. He finished his circle around her, kneeling in order to reach eye level. “I’ll tell you, _Bess”_ he replied, using the name her people lovingly called her. She guessed the nobles must have passed it along to the king.

“I could take your land. I could take your people. I could raze your farms, pillage your towns, and sack your cities. Hell, I could take all the women and children and force them into servitude, and kill the men, too! If. I. So. Pleased”. His stress on the last words gave her pause. He continued.

“But I won’t do that, Bess, because that’s not why I’m here, wasting my time talking to you. You see, your nobles, they came to me with a very _interesting_ proposition. In exchange for you, their freedom. They wouldn’t dare risk ruining their family’s good names, and perhaps even their _lives,_ for one silly rebellion. No, they simply wanted _you_ out of power. Gone. A return to more _civilized_ society, is what they asked for. All it took was half their land and a yearly tithe to make me agree, although I could easily have asked for more, compared to how much YOU wanted to take from them. It was a small price to pay.

Elizabeth was shocked. How greedy could they be. They were already rich, complaining about the lack of things to even SPEND their money on, how could they betray her just to keep their riches piled even higher? If they were here now she would gladly kill them herself.

William continued his speech, edging towards what Elizabeth hoped was his point. “But I think, I’ll simply take it for myself”. His last words flooded her with a surge of energy, while she screamed “NO!” in helpless denial. Her resistance put a gleam in William’s eye, and his reaction to her despair told he that was what he hoped for.

“No? Alright, then, a compromise! What would you say to that, my dear Elizabeth?” He gripped her jaw with his hands, holding it in place while he looked directly into her eyes. “What can you offer me, right now, in exchange for your people’s safety, hmm. You know, I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to cooperate if they know their queen is safe.” The telling look in his eyes, coupled with his hold on her chin, told Elizabeth exactly what he wanted. Tears sprung to her eyes born of fear and disgust at the pig standing in front of her. How could he make her choose between herself and her people? She tore her chin away from his grasp, shaking her head in denial, refusing to meet eye contact or play his games. But he had a point…she knew they would fight for their right to live freely, as foolhardy and reckless it would be, if they knew their king and queen were dead. They would never surrender.

William stood up, surprised but not letting it affect his expression or voice. “Alright, then, Bess. The people it is”. He swished his imperial robes around in a sign that the conversation had ended, and began to step out of the chamber when Elizabeth’s voice broke. “Wait”, she uttered. The king paused in his tracks, but did not turn around. “I’ll give you anything you want…as long as my people are safe”, she choked out. William turned back around, a smile playing out across his lips as he yet again entered the chamber. “My dear, sweet Bess. I think you’ve chosen wisely. Indeed, you truly are the hero of the people”, he said. He mocked her even in victory. She wouldn’t let herself meet his eyes as her cheeks burned in shame. But she wouldn’t let him see her cry, not now, not ever. He could defile her but never her pride or her accomplishments. _The nobles have already seen to that_ , she thought bitterly.

She didn’t care anymore what happened to herself. She was already lost, a spoil of war but not something without power, or significance.

William turned away from her and ordered the guards at the end of the hallway out. He traced a path around the edge of the room, slowly dimming the gas-lit candles until shadows covered the walls, flickering in the light like wicked demons of a fairy tale. William stood before her, his shadow easily the longest and most sinister of the bunch. He removed his kingly fur coat, dropping it to the floor, while simultaneously undoing the knot which held his silken robes firmly in place. An undershirt protected his hairy chest, but nothing stopped the sight of his bulging erection from beneath his breeches.

Elizabeth gasped at the sheer boldness of the man, who stepped forward directly in front of her, until his erect member was less than a foot from her face. Slowly, he pulled down his breeches, letting his cock spring out and hold itself in the air like a stiff mast, bobbing slightly in excitement. Its red tip swelled in size as she watched, and Elizabeth realized with fear that William hadn’t even been fully erect. She hadn’t believed a cock could grow to that size, but, rather distractedly, she realized all she had ever known was Henry’s. William grinned, and without warning grabbed the back of her head, tangling his fingers through her golden locks as he drove his cock into her open mouth. She didn’t resist at first, for she knew it would only make it worse. But her eyes bulged as roughly half his length, four inches or so, filled her mouth, pushing her tongue to the bottom of her mouth and tickling the back of her throat. Already she couldn’t breathe, but her arms were still chained to the walls and William’s dick stretched her mouth to the fullest. He edged out slightly, and Elizabeth took the chance to jerk back. She sucked in a lungful of air before William pushed his cock back in again, relishing her small act of defiance as he sank in another inch. It must have been five this time, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but gag reactively. William pulled back out she wretched, a strand of saliva still connected to her lip.

“What a poor sight you are, my Queen” he mocked. “It appears that Henry didn’t train you so well after all. I think you need a lesson!” With that he pushed his cock between her lips once more, but blessedly not too far, before pulling back and repeating the process. Thrusting in and out, Elizabeth got a firm handle with her lips and sucked as hard as she could to keep him satisfied. It was warm, much warmer than she had expected. Her tongue found purchase around the tip, providing him a wet home to rub against as he continued thrusting. She closed her eyes and waited until the moment he would finish, trying to imagine it was Henry’s cock she was sucking. But it was all wrong. Henry wouldn’t be this rough, this uncaring. Henry would hear her whimpers and stop immediately, but William kept going, his body reacting positively to her cries of distress. Tears leapt unbidden from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as she desperately tried to suck air in through her nose. A slight twitch of his cock was the only warning she received before he erupted inside her mouth, semen pouring down her throat in loads while she fought to gulp it down. William didn’t stop thrusting until the last spurt had finished, pulling his cock out and inspecting her face, wet from her eyes. His cock hung in the air momentarily, as if proud, before sagging from its efforts. “Clean it off, whore”, William ordered. He pressed his cock against her lips again, and Elizabeth opened her mouth again to suck. Its rapid transformation surprised her. She had never seen a cock after an orgasm, and the immediate lack of hardness was surprising but thankfully much easier to bear. With ease she wrapped her tongue around it, sucking every drop of saliva from him until he was pleased. William pulled out and inspected her handiwork, before nodding to himself with satisfaction. He released his hand from her back and rested it instead upon her head.

“That’s a good little slut, Bess. I’m impressed with you so far! I hope you can last until the end, though…” With those ominous words he moved towards the wall to her right. Clothed in darkness, she could barely make out his form as he interacted with something on the wall, but the jangle of chains was an ominous clue. He brought the clamp forward and set it on the ground, before seizing her legs and pulling them out from under her. She nearly kicked his crotch in return, but stopped herself just in time. He attached the cold, metal clamp to her right ankle, than did the same with her left from a device on the opposite wall. Giving her a look of something close to sympathy, he cranked a wheel on the left wall which hoisted her clamp into the air, bringing her leg with it. It caused her head to fall backwards, now unsupported by her body. The same occurred on her right, until she hung there suspended in the air by her restraints, left to sway gently back and forth.

It was an effort to bring her head up, but she watched with dismay as William stood there admiring his handiwork. His erection, which had seemed so exhausted a moment ago, had returned with a vengeance, and already his head bobbed up and down, sensing its master’s intentions. William walked forward, pushing her helpless legs to the sides before moving his hands up her thighs. Elizabeth tensed in reaction, unable to control the sensitivity of her nether regions. Already when his seed had spilled down her mouth, she had felt a burst of fire in her depths but entirely ignored its call. _This isn’t Henry_ , she had told her body. There was nothing to feel here. But now it came again unbidden, that heat and tingle that awakened a spark inside her. William felt the edges of her dress as if admiring the silken material, although age had dulled its beauty. He lifted it up over her waist, spotting her shift that clung to her body. He dug his fingers into the stretchy fabric and pulled with immense strength, a great tearing noise punctuating the air. Elizabeth’s body tensed at the coolness of the air that hit her nether regions, which grew hotter despite her attempts to subdue it.

For his part William had grown silent in his actions, perhaps giving her a second to breathe and adjust to the new position. But now he moved forward, gripping her thighs tight while positioning his cock against her entrance. He looked her in the eyes, and for a moment they connected, and just as Elizabeth’s mouth opened to speak, he thrusted into her. The wet walls of her vagina contracted around William’s cock, attempting with some success to fit his massive member inside her. There was no mercy, and just this once Elizabeth was glad her body had reacted the way it did. He pumped into her repeatedly, holding her legs tight and settling into a strong rhythm, enjoying how her breasts heaved with each thrust and her slick skin shone against the flickering candlelight. Their breaths sounded in sync as William angled his cock to just rub the tip of her clit, eliciting an unexpected moan from Elizabeth’s lips.

At that William grinned, satisfied at the effect her body was having. “Such a good little whore, Bess” he crowed as he continued pumping into her. “You’re going to cum for me now”, he spoke sparingly, focusing on the sensations her insides had on his cock. Elizabeth didn’t want to agree to any plan this man made, but she focused, through the haze of heat and bursts of pleasure, on her people. This was for them. As long as she thought that, she would do anything, even cum around her most hated rival’s cock. So, she let her head loll back and started swinging her hips against his dick, enjoying the way his balls slapped against her clit with every thrust. It must have been six inches of William’s dick inside her at this point, and Elizabeth had never felt this full. The pulsating pleasure she felt in her clit spread to every tip of her body, until with a cry she felt it hit its breaking point and spilled out of her, waves of pleasure causing her hips to buck and shudder in the air. William came with her, her wet walls painfully contracting around him as more jets of cum shot out, coating her insides in sticky semen. He fell against her, slipping his cock, now fully deflated, out from inside her and stepping back. With heavy breaths he walked towards the walls, slowly cranking the wheels down until all four of Elizabeth’s limbs touched the cold stone floor. Her aching muscles throbbed with relief as the clamps were undone on her ankles and wrists, and she couldn’t help but curl up slightly as the man she hated stepped closer.

But it was only for a second. Perhaps thinking better of it, William paused and turned back, collecting his things from the floor and dressing himself again in the trappings of a king. “I’ll arrange a bath for you” he said with his back to her, his voice an octave lower than usual. “And a change of clothes. Yours are filthy”. With that he opened the door to the chamber and left, striding down the hallway at a quick pace, not even turning back. Elizabeth was left to pick herself up and go towards the bed that poked out of the edge of the room, at odds with the other equipment within. She climbed into it and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep but unable. As long as her people were safe, she would endure anything this man desired of her. Of that, she was certain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth finds newfound freedom at the hands of her captors.

Elizabeth’s cell was quiet. A slow trickle of water slid through the cell grate lost in the high ceiling, going ‘pit-pat’ as droplets fell to the ground. She shivered, for the breeze that followed promised yet another cold day, and she was wearing nothing but the change of clothes she had received four nights ago. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots, dust, dirt, and who knows what else, for after her daily washes – which were mandatory – she was not allowed to brush it. William had visited her once again, per their _arrangement_. He was no less vile in his actions than he had been previously, but despite it all his visit had given her hope. For with him he had brought a report, a treaty, signed by the mayors of each province within her kingdom, agreeing to the terms of the compromise. The war would end, if she was to be William’s prisoner.

It could all be a lie, a ploy to let her guard down while he ravaged her lands and people, but there was nothing Elizabeth could do either way. And so, she hoped, and prayed to God it was true. She was lost in such a prayer, kneeling as it were, when William interrupted her murmurings with another visit. Her initial thought that this was another standard meeting was dashed when she saw who followed behind him. Her eyes spread wide as the queen’s royal visage came into focus. Tall, regal, with high cheekbones and a jutting jawline, the queen stared down at Elizabeth with imperious eyes. No doubt she had an inkling as to what had happened between her and her husband, but said nothing, intent, as it were, to maintain a piercing glare. Elizabeth met it, and both women waged a silent battle of wills as the guard fumbled with the key to the cell. Elizabeth’s wild blonde locks fell into stark contrast against the queen’s carefully brushed and plaited black hair. William stepped forward into the cell, clearing his throat with a cough.

“Elizabeth…” he began. His wife coughed. “Queen Elizabeth!” he tried again, hiding a furious blush from his cheeks. “You are from this moment forth a subject of this kingdom. As a loyal subject, it is your _duty_ to obey not only the demands of your king but that of her royal majesty as well. “Queen Lydia…,” the queen tilted her head at the mention, “would rather someone of your experience be put to more use than simply to rot away in a cell. In her great and bountiful generosity, she believes a seat in the royal court would suit your…skills”. William couldn’t help but smile at the last word, despite the look of anger that briefly flashed across his wife’s face.

“You are to immediately be brought to the servant’s quarters, where a bed and room will be waiting. Tomorrow at noon, King Merek and King Borrin are arriving to pledge their support towards a new pact, an alliance, between our four kingdoms. I will expect you there promptly”. With that he stepped back, not even waiting for a reply. The king and queen then turned and made their way down the hall, fierce whispers permeating the air between them. Everything about his demeanor changed in the presence of _her_ , something Elizabeth found incredibly amusing. The guard took her arm, leading her immediately down another hallway, and up a flight of stairs. She took the steps with bare feet, relishing the change from cool stone to dry wood. Through a doorway, past what must have been the kitchen, Elizabeth assumed, from the whistles of steam and clatter of pans, and up into the castle’s first floor. Narrow corridors connected the main building, crisscrossed above and below each other like some architect’s fever dream. A bird’s eye view of the whole structure would cause the viewer to believe a spider itself had weaved this web of stone and mortar, however, if one focused they could discern a pattern among the chaos.

This being her first time to the castle, Elizabeth had no knowledge of such a pattern and soon became lost, despite her desperate hope of drawing a map in her head. The guard tugged on her arm, forcing her to keep pace, as they rounded yet another bend and found themselves at a door. “Servant’s Quarters” was carved into the woodwork, embellished with a silvery metal that caused it to gleam. Leading her through, the guard soon stopped at a door with a knife sticking out it. The guard pulled it from the door, mumbling something about “that’s how we give ourselves reminders”. Pulling it open, Elizabeth stepped through, eager for a change in scenery. The room, however, revealed itself to be almost as drab as her cell. A four-poster bed was certainly an improvement, however, but the lack of any windows, coupled with the low ceiling, would surely make her suffocate. Even after weeks of confinement, Elizabeth still sorely missed her own castle’s bedchambers, with its sloped ceiling, bearskin rugs, and even a homely fireplace for her personal use. It was the only part of the castle Elizabeth allowed her position to influence. Everything else, even the throne upon which she sat, lacked decoration. It was how she wanted her subjects to see her, always…but her bedroom was a different matter entirely. Nobody saw her there, except Henry…

Tears glistened at the thought of him. He was dead, like so many others. His body lay out in a field surrounded by their fellow countrymen, who protected him till the last man. A galloping horse, a sword coated in malice, and his head, cleaved from his neck with one pass. Elizabeth knew how it happened, because she had been right beside him. It was her spear that found the horse’s owner and swiftly brought her husband justice.

She shook her head to rid herself of the thought. The guard made to leave, but Elizabeth was suddenly curious. “Wait!” she called. The guard paused, and under his helmet she could see him deciding whether or not to listen. He relented, and looked at her to continue. “Am I really allowed to be on my own?” Elizabeth asked. She had seen that the door had no lock. It must be a measure against the servants, a warning that they held no privacy above their masters.

“Yes”, the guard replied. “You’re free to go anywhere within the castle, but you can’t leave. If you try, you will be killed. Those are the king’s orders”. Elizabeth was surprised to hear that. Perhaps her new station granted more power than she had imagined. It did make her wonder why William wouldn’t deem to tell her, though, and she could only assume he had hoped she would try only to die in the process, giving him an excuse to start their war anew.

With that the guard shut the door, leaving her alone. Besides the bed and ceiling, the room held a dresser opposite it, along with a single shelf. Since she had no things to bring, the room felt oddly spacious despite being similar to that of her cell. Upon opening the drawers, Elizabeth was delighted to find it filled with dresses of varying colors and styles. The feeling of cloth between her fingers was exquisite, and immediately she jumped out of her current plain dress and into a beautiful blue gown, trails of white stitched into the edges. At a thought, she opened the drawer below it to find accompanying shoes, and above accessories she would have believed the king stole from his wife’s bedstand. After weeks stuck inside a decrepit cell it was almost too much to bear, and Elizabeth sank to her knees, holding the fabrics between her bosom.

She blinked, realizing what a fool she must look like. A queen, practically kissing the earth from a dresser of pretty things? Immediately she jumped up and eyed the door, wishing again that it could lock. She moved towards the bed instead, but was too restless to sit for long. With a start she realized the hunger that had been quietly gnawing away at her, and that perhaps the kitchen would be more pitiful of the queen-turned-prisoner. Fitting herself into a pair of easy-fitting velvet shoes with coverlets, she opened the door to her room and made her way down the hall, trying to remember where she had heard the previous bangs of pots and pans. But the castle again proved itself to be her true enemy, and within a minute she had lost her bearing. Corridors extended in all four directions, torches occasionally dotting the walls.

Elizabeth hung her head in frustration, turning around in the hopes of relocating her quarters, only to find herself face to face with another woman. She was dressed in a simple frock, lacking in color or imagination, and her style denoted that of the lower classes. She stared at Elizabeth with surprise before quickly lowering her head and moving past with a quick “Madam”. Elizabeth saw her chance and seized it, crying “Wait!” for the second time that day. The girl paused, shrinking into herself as Elizabeth rounded on her. “Ye-yes, madam? How can I be of service?”

 _“This girl must not recognize me”_ Elizabeth thought. She summoned what imperial airs she could before replying. “I require that you bring me to the kitchens immediately”. The girl blinked, nodding at first but stopped. “If it’s food you’d like, madam, I would be happy to retrieve it for you and bring it to your quarters. Are you in the guest wing?”

 _“Oh crap”_ thought Elizabeth. She couldn’t have this girl know who she was, or assume she was a lowly servant. She already had the wherewithal to know an unfamiliar face in the castle when she saw one.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Just lead me to the kitchens, please”, she replied quickly. The girl nodded and started down the westward corridor. A right, a right, and a left brought them within earshot, and Elizabeth’s stomach grumbled mightily. The pair soon stopped outside the entrance, and the servant girl looked at her, waiting.

“What would you like to eat, your grace?” the girl questioned.

 _”EVERYTHING”_ screamed Elizabeth inside her head. But she knew she couldn’t arouse suspicion from the girl. “Two loaves of bread, a jug of Southbriar mead if you have it, and whatever stew I’m smelling…for my husband”. She smiled at the girl, nervous beads of sweat starting to trail down her face. The girl simply nodded again and moved through the door, calling for the order while efficiently navigating the space. With ease she handled the food and brought it back to Elizabeth, who precariously balanced the items on top of one another.

“You have my gratitude” Elizabeth smiled while looking the height of comedy. “What is your name?” The girl’s eyes widened, likely not used to praise like this. “I am Folka Brunsbordewisch, daughter of Svarg Brunsbordewisch”. She bowed. Elizabeth attempted to do the same, but stopped when the mead nearly spilled onto the rugs. “I am Q…Lady Amelia…Brandt, daughter of…Vargas Brandt. Thank you for your help, Folka”. With that she turned, before Folka could ask anything else from her. The names were uncommon, very uncommon, and she was certain the girl was curious as to who this newcomer was.

“ _Now to find my room_ ” she mused, tracing the path she had taken initially with the guard. As it turned out, it was only two turns more and she arrived at the door to her room, carefully setting down her somewhat ill-gotten gains to turn the knob. She was not, however, prepared for what awaited her.

“Bess!?” yelled William, who was sitting on her bed. “Where have you been?! I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes!?” Elizabeth froze with her hand on the doorknob, wishing she could simply close it, take her food, and disappear, but William’s glaring features told her otherwise. “I went to the kitchen to get food, _William_! Since apparently your plan is to STARVE me to death!” She picked up her food and set it upon the dresser, turning to face him. His features shifted at the sight of it, and his expression changed from anger to consternation. “I came here to ask what you would like to eat” he explained, gritting through his teeth. “But I can see that you are quite adept at finding your way around the castle”.

Elizabeth didn’t budge. “Are you sure you weren’t coming for something else, my _king_?” she spat. She didn’t care that this man had absolute power over her. He had already taken everything from her, at the very least he would not take her as an obedient servant.

At her last retort William’s face fell, and Elizabeth spied a hint of embarrassment written on his features. “My w…Queen Lydia would prefer if that would end…she can be quite compelling when she wants to be”, the king said, rubbing his bottom. He spied Elizabeth watching his actions, and turned his head away while saying “hot poker”. Elizabeth could scarcely believe her luck. Not only was her torment in the dungeons over, but no longer would she have to service the disgusting fantasies of the man sitting before her. William watched her face shift from anger to joy in a heartbeat, his features impassive. “In that case, I will bid you farewell, Queen Elizabeth” he said, standing and moving to the door. She gave him a cold smile, keeping herself at least an arms-length from the man as he stepped around her. “William?” she questioned. “Could you…tell the servants to bring me another jug of ale? And more bread, too. This won’t last forever”. William turned around, eyeing her stash, and laughed. “Fine. But don’t forget our meeting tomorrow. Wear…that, actually” he said, eyeing her dress. She nodded, and he closed the door, finally giving her a moment to breathe. Tomorrow would be trying; she knew it already. But if today’s events were a sign, she could only imagine things get better from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth ain't waiting too long to plan her escape, I can tell you that much!


End file.
